What's your favourite colour?
by Capelthwaite
Summary: How is it that he could make her so undone with a single question.


**A/N: This is my reinterpretation of what happens on the night Jack slips into Ellen's room at the castle before the Games. The beginning closely follows the novel before splitting off into the world of my imagination. Please Read, Enjoy & Review.**

**Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Cinda Williams Chima. The concept of 'Pause' was adopted from the American sitcom 'How I Met Your Mother'.**

Ellen closed the door after her trainer, pushed the deadbolt into place, and rested her head against the cool wood. She let out a sigh, her hand dragging slowly down the door from the deadbolt. Behind her, Jack dissolved the noticeability charm and whispered one to secure the door.

Catching the tail of his charm, Ellen whipped around and instinctively reached for the weapon that wasn't there. "Jack!" she hissed. "How did you–!" She spun around, undid the dead bolt and pulled at the door. It refused to yield to her efforts.

"It won't open," Jack reassured her. He tried to look relaxed and leaned back in this chair. "I want to talk to you. Alone."

There was no malice in his tone but she gave one more futile pull at the door behind her back. It still would not open. She scanned the room. "Are you looking for this?" Jack held up the dagger and wiggled it for her to see. He set it atop the table. "Please take a seat. I won't take long."

After a long pause, Ellen lowered herself onto the armchair opposite to Jack. She was barely sitting on the chair, her still form like a taut loaded bow. "What are you doing here? How did you even get in my room?" Her voice was low but demanding.

Jack just shrugged and repeated, "I wanted to talk to you. I have some questions."

Ellen slowly leaned back on her armchair, her hands gripping the armrests. "What do you want to know?"

His eyes bore into hers, determined. "Why did you come to Trinity?"

Her eyebrows raised a little before rolling her eyes. "I came to find you." The 'of course' came unsaid. "We knew that the White Rose was hiding a warrior in Trinity and I came to search for them."

"To kill me?"

She rolled her eyes again and leaned her elbows on the table. "Trust me, if I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead. Besides, at the time, we hadn't identified the warrior. That was my initial task. We narrowed it down to the boys' soccer team after the energy release during the try-outs but after that, nothing. In the meantime, Wylie went treasure hunting for your sword and got his face burnt for his efforts. Soon, we were out of leads."

She paused. "At first, I thought it was Will."

Jack's lips formed into an 'oh'. "So is that why you started to spend so much time with him?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but eventually I figured out that he was anaweir and we just became friends. Fitch too. You can't blame me; he was built like what I would expect of a warrior, big and athletic. Plus, it took a while for your…you to…er…fill out." Her eyes glazed over as she looked him up and down, her gaze lingering over his chest and shoulders. Catching herself, she dropped her focus on the table as her face reddened.

"Anyways, after a while, Paige fell back and Wylie tended to his own business and I was left in the thick of it. When Hastings entered the picture, we were obviously suspicious but I figured I could use him to get to the warrior. But he was clever, working with different students and different clubs. He threw us off your scent when he headed the Chaucerian society, something you weren't a part of." She rubbed the bridge of her nose looking frustrated. "I guess I convinced myself that it wasn't you, that it couldn't be. Also, I started to like the small-town life, helping the soccer team, hanging out with friends afterschool." Her voice trailed off.

Jack sighed. "And I guess after the incident with Lobeck, it was pretty obvious it was me, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm rather surprised you let him take that first shot. If it were me, well, you know what we're trained for."

He looked at the dagger at her implication. "I didn't want you to get in the middle of it. I didn't want you to see the fight since I figured it would get ugly. Besides, I knew I was risking being found if I lost control." He chuckled, his tone hollow. "So much for that though." He ran a hand through his hair.

She shook her head and gave a mirthless laugh. "After all this time, the sword and the warrior were hiding right under our noses."

The pair fell into silence with Jack watching her and Ellen staring at everything but him. He could almost see the pent up anger radiating off her, smell the anticipation of the Games and taste the slight bitterness of fear. But under all of it, he could feel the misery that rolled off her form and reach out to him.

Before he could ask, she spoke. "You have no idea what I've been through. While you were tucked in the safety of Trinity, I've been constantly on the run since I was three years old and Paige has owned me ever since." She shivered nostalgically, as if she was recalling a particularly painful incident.

She started to get up, probably to tell him to get out, but Jack threw out his hand and caught hers. Her eyes jumped to their hands and her body went rigid, fighting her instinct to fight. But his grip was not predatory but guiding, preventing her from going astray. His hand loosened and slid down her fingers, inviting the rest of her body to follow suit and sit again. Once seated, she looked at his face and caught him staring. This broke the spell. She ripped her hand out from his and cradled it against her chest as if she'd been burned.

She watched Jack's face fall for a fraction of a second before he smiled and blurted out, "What's your favourite colour?"

She blinked once. And then twice. _Had she heard him right?_ As if he could read her thoughts, Jack repeated his question, more eager this time. His smile grew as if proud that his question caught her off guard. "Um, well…" she stammered a little. "You might find my answer is a bit strange. See, I have a different favourite colour for different things. For example, my favourite colour to wear is white. My favourite colour to look at outside is grass green. My favourite colour of wall paint is a combination of mint green and a pale tan. My favourite paint colour is a deep crimson. My favourite colour for houses is a pastel blue, like the ones you find in Florida. My favourite eye colour is a deep blue…" she looked at Jack, her face flaming up at the sight of the very colour eyes she just mentioned. She shook her head. "Anyways, it's not the most conventional answer but the list goes on. Most people just stick with 'blue' or 'red'."

Jack nodded as she answered, content that he was learning more about the woman inside rather than the hard shell warrior coating. He was sure he'd learn all he would need to know about that side during the Games. It almost felt like they were back in Trinity when he was still blissfully oblivious. "What do you want to do in life?" His second question came out as impulsively as the first.

Ellen dropped her hands into her lap, deciding to trust Jack not to use the dagger that lay between them on the table. Her hands balled into fists. "I've never thought of that. I've been trained to prepare for the Games. Part of me always knew that there was a very real chance that I would die. And even if I won, I would die soon after. Such is the fate of warriors. I grew up acutely aware of that, unlike you." Her voice carried a bitter edge to it now. "Unlike you, I never had the luxury to dream of what I wanted to do when I 'grew up'."

Jack sprang from his seat. "You think this is easier for me? At least you knew! Sure I had the opportunity to dream about what I wanted in life but at least you didn't have them all ripped away from you. God, only months before, all I wanted was to pass my classes, graduate high school, go to college, fall in love, you know? " He looked at her almost pleadingly as if she could turn back time or press reset, as if she could erase all of this. That face almost made her want to try.

She stood too and this time he didn't stop her. "Sorry to burst your bubble Swift but you were made for this, _we_ were made for this and tomorrow, we'll see how your legendary sword and dumb luck fares against my countless years of training." At that, Jack knew that he was no longer talking to his friend from school but the warrior that was aiming to kill him. But he wasn't finished.

"But I don't want to fight you. I don't want to kill you."

"Well aren't you arrogant." She scoffed at him. "I highly doubt that'll be the case. In fact, you might as well take your chances now." She motioned towards the dagger sitting on the table. "You're lacking experience and drive which makes my job incredibly–"

In one large stride, Jack closed the space between them until barely a foot separated them. "Pause."

The second time since he walked into her room, he had her stumbling for words. She looked at him confused. "W-what?"

He shrugged. "Something I picked up from a TV show. This couple could call 'pause' in the middle of their fight at any point and during that time they were in a state where the fight was not allowed to be brought up, as if the fight never occurred. They would revisit the argument when they called 'unpause'."

Bewildered, she tried to process what he just said. A blush rose to her face when he mentioned a couple. "That scenario does not apply to the two of us. We aren't together." She backed away from him until her heel hit the wooden door behind her.

He looked at his feet, his features falling into one of disappointment. "No, not under these circumstances." His voice was strangely soft.

_What does he mean by that?_ Before she could ask, he already had another question at his lips. "If things were different, if there were no such thing as the Games or if we didn't have these stones, do you think we could be something?"

His question was unexpected and ambiguous but she couldn't help but acknowledge that the very question persistently plagued her thoughts. She constantly caught her gaze drifting in his direction in class, every class. When she was watching him from the stands while he, Will, and Fitch were practicing, rather than monitoring him and studying his movements like Paige instructed, her thoughts would wander to what it would be like if things _were_ different. What it would be like to spend more time with him, to talk endlessly about nothing. She would imagine moments where they would just sit next to each other in pure silence, simply enjoying each other's company. The picture of herself sitting between his legs under a giant oak tree would sneak its way into her mind. Her back would be leaning against his chest while she read and his chin resting on her shoulder, occasionally planting a kiss on her neck and collar. Every time she closed her eyes, she would recall the feel of their first and last kiss outside his door the day before he left for England. She hated to admit it but she ached for him.

"Ellen." He whispered, waking her from her trance. The question still hung heavy between them.

She couldn't lie to him. "Yes," she breathed her response barely audible. She noticed that he was much closer to her than before.

Jack put a hand on the door behind her, making sure not to cage her with his arms. Although he didn't want her to run from him and his question, the last thing he wanted was to seem as if he were trapping her. After all, predators don't like to be cornered. He leaned over her, his eyes bearing down on her and sighed. He spoke with a bittersweet smile in his voice, "I don't know if I should be happy or…" He let his voice trail off but she understood.

Slowly, as if not to startle her, he brought his other hand to her chin. He watched her eyes follow his hand until it stopped short of her face. His touch was feather light. He lifted her face to look at his. Her grey orbs met his blues and he laid his soul bare for her to see. They stayed frozen for minutes, as if to capture the moment to revisit later.

Finally, Ellen took hold of his wrist and pulled his hand away from her face. She gently pushed against his chest, asking for space. This was inappropriate. One of them was going to have their hearts cut out the day after. Fraternizing with the enemy would only make the task more confusing if not more difficult. She had a goal and he was making her question it.

However, Jack wasn't having any of it. "We're in pause-land Ellen," he breathed as if that explained everything. He stepped forward, forcing her back against the door. He closed the space between them so his body pressed against her torso and her hand fell off his chest. He caught it and laced their fingers together. His other hand caressed her cheek. She could feel his breath on her face and the heat of his body along the length of her own. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment and inhaled deeply, taking her in. She felt the hem of her silk shirt ride up with the rise of his chest, exposing skin that was a few shades lighter than her arms and legs.

"Jack–"

The corners of his lips turn upwards into a wavering smile. He opened his eyes, his lashes brushing against her face. "Ellen, you already plan on taking my life tomorrow. Don't take this from me too." He seemed to beg with his eyes alone. "Please."

A moment passed before she allowed herself a small smile. She finally relented. "I thought we were in pause-land," her voice growing quieter with each word, teasing. She supposed a part of her definitely wouldn't mind pausing this moment indefinitely.

She can't explain what made her do what she did next. It was like an impulse she couldn't deny or simply didn't want to. She slid her free hand behind Jack's head, her fingers combing through his unruly reddish hair and gentle pulled him downwards. She met him halfway, reaching up on her toes and touched her lips to his. It was light, barely a kiss when she lowered herself, letting her heels to touch the floor. But Jack wasn't finished. He lowered, kissing her again and pulling her flush against him and off the door. If this was going to be the last time, he was sure as hell he wasn't going to let it end so soon.

But when he finally broke away, Ellen allowed herself to blissfully follow up towards his face as he rose, reluctant to let it end. Jack smiled, amused by the cherry red glow of her cheeks and satisfied that he was the reason behind their presence. There was so much he wanted to say. But for the moment, he let his lips rest on her forehead, letting his words go unsaid.

As they stood in their silent embrace, Ellen recalled his second question of the night. _What do you want to do in life? _She lied when she said she never really thought about it. In fact the possibility of having an alternate future to constantly fighting crept into her mind countless times. Sometimes she pictured herself playing professional soccer, captain of her team, satisfied and successful. Other times she imagined being a vet. She could never see herself fixing people since she dedicated her life to tearing them apart. What would her personal life be like? Would she ever get married? Perhaps even have children? Her thoughts wandered to Jack's answer. _All I wanted was to pass my classes, graduate high school, go to college, fall in love_. What did she want? She wanted to be the one to help him get through his classes, to cheer the loudest for him as he graduated, and to be in the dorm across the hall when they went to college. She wanted the chance to be the one he fell in love with.

"Unpause." His mouth was still touching her forehead when he spoke barely above a whisper. It was then that she realized how unrealistic dreams were. She was trained, no, _raised_ to kill him. And tomorrow was the payoff.

Jack muttered the noticeability charm under his breath, undid the charm on the door, and slipped out into the night.

When Ellen finally allowed her eyes to open Jack was gone, leaving his warmth on her body in his wake. She smelled the shadow of his scent. She exhaled, her breath coming out in a shiver. The room seemed oddly large without him in it, and cold. She felt bare. Turning around, she slid the deadbolt into place and rested her forehead against the warm wooden door. She let out a sigh, her hand dragging slowly down the door from the deadbolt wishing with all her might that instead of wood beneath her fingers, it was Jack.

_End_.


End file.
